


Everyone ships them

by ChocoNut



Series: Many ways to say I love you [80]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, At the start of 8x4, Attempt at Humor, Crack Treated Seriously, F/M, Fluff, Season 8
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:07:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26158528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoNut/pseuds/ChocoNut
Summary: Jaime, Brienne and gang wander outside their world and into ours... only to end up in the company of a bunch of JB shippers.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Series: Many ways to say I love you [80]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1234904
Comments: 14
Kudos: 56





	Everyone ships them

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, this is the first time I've attempted something like this. Thank you for giving it a shot and I hope you like it.

“What the hell?”

Freezing to a halt at the sight before him, Jaime wheeled around immediately, only to find that the dense foliage they had been wading through had vanished. In place of the serenity they had stepped away from, were tall structures, presumably homes, touching the skies. Carriages with no horses pulling them sped past them, a jarring noise not unlike their own horns back at the castle, blaring through their ears.

He looked around to survey his surroundings—taking in this and so many other things that baffled him. It certainly appeared as if they had wandered into another realm, some place that definitely wasn’t Westeros.

“Look, it's them from Game of Thrones!”

Scanning for the source of the excited voice, he caught sight of two young women giggling and pointing at them.

“Let’s ask them how to get back to Winterfell,” Tyrion suggested, and made his way to the pair. The rest of them, having no other choice, followed.

“Jaime and Brienne!” cried one of them who looked to be about Sansa’s age. 

“No, silly,” the other girl corrected her, scrutinizing them from head to foot. “These are the actors playing them.”

“That’s what I meant,” her friend squealed. “And here’s Daniel and Sophie and Peter too! Looks like they’re here to shoot some promo stuff.”

“My name is Sansa, not Sophie,” Sansa corrected them, frowning slightly at being mistaken. “And Daniel? Peter?” She exchanged a blank look with Tyrion and Pod.

“You seem to have mistaken us for someone else,” Tyrion politely pointed out. “We were at the Godswood, and when we sensed a mild rustling in the bushes, we edged away to investigate, only to find ourselves in your—” he glanced around “—strange world. Now if you could direct us to the clearing we accidentally seem to have wandered through, my lady—”

“My lady?” the girls chorused, looking extremely surprised at being addressed so. “That’s awfully gentlemanly of you, but we’d rather be called by our names.” 

“You are ladies—aren’t you?” Tyrion tentatively asked, eyes curious to find out more. “Or is it different in this world? Going by your garb—”

“This world?” The quieter of the women narrowed her eyes. “Why do you keep saying that?”

“Hush, they’re in character,” the other one nudged her to shut her up. “So um—Nik—sorry Ser Jaime,” she started, looking directly at him now. “Now that the long night has passed, would you return to your vile sister?”

“He won’t,” her friend stamped down her question before he could try and answer. “He loves his wench—”

“I’m not _his_ wench,” Brienne countered, her offended reaction hitting Jaime with a pang of disappointment. “Don’t you speak as if you know us.”

“Sure, we do. You have tons of fans—”

“You can’t just assume things about us,” Brienne hotly cut her, looking as flustered as she’d been when he had walked into training with Pod, cheeks dotted with spots of pink, bright blue eyes wide with shock and amazement. “Besides, we don’t even know who you are—”

“Told you we’re fans.” The livelier of the girls turned to a group standing some feet away from her. “Hey, you guys,” she shouted, beckoning them to join them. “Come on here, look who’s joined us for a little chat.”

“It’s the Game of Thrones cast,” gushed her companion, eyes sparkling with excitement. “There’s Nikolaj and Gwendoline—”

“Who are these people you keep naming?” Pod asked, perplex. “You called me Daniel—” 

“—and Daniel and Peter and Sophie, who, for some reason, are adamant to answer to anything but their characters’ names.”

Almost immediately they were surrounded by half a dozen young men and women who tried to get close, clamouring for their attention. “Move back,” Brienne warned, drawing her sword. “If you want to stay unharmed—”

“Oathkeeper,” one of them shouted, pointing. “Look how fondly she carries it. Gifted to her by the love of her life.”

“He is _not_ ,” Brienne mumbled, patches of colour bringing life to her face as she returned Oathkeeper to its place.

“Of course, he is,” asserted a third voice, belonging, again, to a girl, this time too. “ _It’s yours,”_ she mimicked Jaime, her perfection stunning him. “ _It will always be yours._ ”

“And the Knighting scene,” sighed another, this time a young lad about Podrick’s age. “That was supremely romantic—”

“There’s nothing romantic about knighting someone,” Brienne retorted, the blots of colour taking over most of the freckles on her face.

“Oh, it was romantic,” Tyrion stepped in, nodding vigorously to the young people who called themselves ‘fans’. “My brother here is irrevocably in love with her but he cannot—” he turned to offer Jaime a glare “—for reasons known only to him, admit it to himself or to her.”

“Can we please put an end to this conversation and find our way back?” Jaime objected, his neck growing warmer by the second. Knowing how eloquently his brother could go on and on about something given the slightest chance, he wanted to put an end to this before Tyrion could blurt out about the confessions he’d been mumbling in his dream. “My ladies,” he addressed the two women they had first met, “we stumbled into some bushes in the Godswood and before we could realize it, we found ourselves here,” he explained. “Could you kindly help us get back?” 

“Get back to your sets, you mean?” the girl asked. Jaime wasn’t sure what that meant, but he nodded. “Sure thing, but would you mind giving us your autographs while you're here?” She pulled out a strange sort of quill from her bag and what looked like a book. “If you could please—” she handed it to him. 

Jaime stared blankly at her, not knowing what to do with the things he was handed.

“An autograph, please?” she repeated. “My name’s Lily.”

He was still clueless. “What am I supposed to do?”

The girl stared back, then broke into a knowing smile. “Nice acting, _ser_ ,” she complimented. “All you have to do is write me a message, please, then sign your name.”

He opened the book to a blank page. “Ink?”

His demand was met with furrowed brows all around, but the girl patiently replied, “It’s a pen. The ink’s inbuilt.”

After a skeptical glance at the tip of the quill, Jaime pressed it to the parchment. 

“I never knew you were left handed in real life,” Lily remarked, impressed. 

“Dear Lily,” he read it out aloud as he scribbled in the best hand he could. “Greetings and best wishes from Ser Jaime Lannister.”

When he handed it back to her, she was beside herself with joy. “Thanks a ton, Nikolaj, that’s so sweet of you.”

“Why does she keep calling us by those strange names?” Brienne muttered, as the quill and book were passed around the rest of them, and more of the natives approached them for this _‘autograph’_ thing. 

About ten to fifteen minutes later, they had finished, much to the satisfied sighs of their company. 

“Now, can we return?” Sansa grumbled, shifting her weight from one foot to the other restlessly. “We need to get back on time for the war council meeting—”

“Oooh, so you’re marching on Cersei.” Several nods of approval came from the small crowd that had gathered around them. “Episode 4 should be fun.”

“What about Jaime?” Lily’s friend returned to the question she had raised. “Will he ride South or stay back with his wench?”

“I’ve not decided,” Jaime put her off, his heart tilting, of course, towards staying back at Winterfell.

“And I’m not his wench,” Brienne shot back. “He loves—”

“—you.” This time it wasn’t one of the odd people, but Pod, who had spoken. “He loves you, m’lady ser,” he beamed. “He has been asking me about you, your childhood, your family—”

“You were strictly supposed to keep that between the two of us, Pod,” Jaime curtailed his revelation, gritting his teeth. “Now, instead of wasting words on the unnecessary, if we could all expend our brain power to help us get the hell out of here—”

“Pod ships them, of course,” Lily announced to the gathering. “And so do Bronn and—”

“—I,” Tyrion chimed in enthusiastically. “Whatever this _shipping_ means, I quite like the sound of it as far as my brother and Lady Brienne are concerned.” 

“Tyrion, Bronn, Pod,” one of the young men counted. “And—”

“Me too,” Sansa admitted, forgetting her disgruntlement for a moment. “I have been noticing that Lady Brienne blushes every time I mention Ser Jaime—” 

“I don’t—” 

“With all due respect, you do, m’lady ser,” Pod seconded her, the grin still stuck to his face. “And you get flustered every time he speaks to you.”

“Ah, he does too,” Tyrion gleefully contributed. “Every time she enters a room he becomes a walking talking symbol of chivalry.”

“I—” Jaime started to object, but there was nothing really he could say against it. That Brienne had such an intense impact on him was not something he wanted to flee from anymore. He glanced at her in the hope that he might find something in there, but her eyes were well away, firmly stuck to the ground beneath their feet.

“You love her, Jaime.”

He gulped, unsure of what to say anymore. He couldn’t lie—not to them, definitely not to himself.

This— _her_. 

It all hit him like a bolt of lightning, clearing his head, showing him the path ahead.

“I’m not returning to Cersei,” he announced, and she looked up immediately to meet his eyes. “I’m going nowhere, Brienne.”

The corners of her lips twitched, and although she said nothing, there was an ocean of emotions in her eyes.

“Aww, I hope he marries her in the Godswood of Winterfell,” Lily whispered, letting out a heavy sigh. “That would be so romantic.”

“For that we would have to head back to Winterfell first,” Tyrion steered them back to the problem at hand. “So if you good people could tell us if there are any woods nearby so we can find our way to the Godswood—”

“Woods, you said?” called out a boy from the back of the group. “There’s an entrance to a forest about half a mile from here—” he pointed Eastwards, to a small road that led away from the noisy din of the carriages rushing past them to seemingly somewhere quieter. “From the way you describe it, that’s where your set must be, but I can’t imagine how you got here in the first place.” He peered suspiciously at them. “I don’t remember spotting any HBO sets out there. Besides, how come you’re here without bodyguards and stuff?”

“We are quite capable of guarding ourselves,” Brienne grunted. Jaime hid a smile at her offense at the suggestion of someone else having to protect her.

“But what about security?” the overly inquisitive young man pressed on. “Even if there is a secret set concealed somewhere in there, how did they let you leave the gates?”

Brienne gripped the lion on the pommel. “No one can stop us—” 

“Thank you, dear lords and ladies,” Tyrion cut her short.

“Thank _you_ ,” Lily gushed in gratitude, “for the autographs and for the juicy bit of information that Jaime will end up with Brienne, married, the Braime bunch happily residing in Tarth.”

“I didn’t say that,” Jaime started, panicking. “I only—”

“And what the hell is this _Braime bunch_?” Brienne wondered aloud, frowning at the sound of it.

“You and your seven kids—or was it ten? This is like all our fanfics coming true at once,” Lily dreamily went on. “I can’t wait for all the fluff and—” she tossed her friend a wink “—all the amazing smut we’re going to be treated to on screen.” Lowering her voice, she leaned towards Brienne. “Is it explicit? Or tastefully done like Jon and Dany’s? And what was it like to kiss him?” she inquired, a sly gleam in her eyes.

“I’ve never kissed him,” Brienne hissed back, flustered. “I don’t even understand what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I can see why you want to keep it a secret. Bound by your contract, I suppose.” Lily stepped back, and so did her friends to make way for them, and Jaime and his company broke out of the circle and began heading in the direction suggested. 

What she meant by it, the gods only knew, but Jaime gave her a weak nod of agreement, hoping that might put an end to this exchange.

“But we’ll see it soon.” she continued, refusing to give up. “This is just like one of the fics I’d written—”

“Which I’m sure is wonderful,” Tyrion shouted back, then hissed under his breath to Jaime, “We should ask Tarly if he knows what these _fic_ things are. Sounds like famous books to me.” 

“Bye, then,” Lily and the others called out, waving frantically, as they put more distance between themselves from the locals. 

The group trudged along in silence along the dirt road that looked out of place in this odd city. With Sansa, Pod and Tyrion leading the way, Jaime was left trailing a few feet behind with Brienne, and every now and then, he glanced her way, hoping to find out what she thought about all that these strange people surmised about them.

“You do blush, wench,” he brought it up, recalling his conversation with her at the training yard. “Admit it.”

“I don’t—”

“Like you did years ago when I gave you the armour,” he reminisced, the pink of her cheeks and the shine in her eyes still fresh in his mind. “And at Riverrun—”

“You’re not returning to King’s Landing?” she asked, ignoring his observation. “Why?”

“The same reason I came to Winterfell—” he stopped short of the clump of trees marking the entrance, and she did too “I—”

“Make haste, you two,” Tyrion’s voice floated across from the other side. “You can talk to your heart’s content when you’re back home.”

Smiling at the eyes that answered every question he had, Jaime took her hand. “Together.”

Shivering slightly under his touch, she exhaled deeply. “Together.”

And when they stepped in, they found themselves on familiar ground—Bran Stark, as always, having a wordless conversation with the tree and surrounded by the rest of his people who had strayed along with them.

“At least now, admit it, you two,” Tyrion implored, looking from him to Brienne. “Even the fanfolk from beyond our woods ship you.”

“Bronn and I have shipped them for ages,” Pod happily sang along with him. “In Riverrun, he thought you were fucking—”

“We were not,” Jaime clarified, parts of him signalling that he shouldn’t put it off anymore. “We were just—”

“—talking,” Brienne supplied, blushing harder than ever.

“Time for more than just talking.” Tyrion rubbed his hands together impatiently. “Although, fucking can come a bit later. Now that we have the Godswood and we have the bride and the groom—”

“—I can call for the rest of the arrangements,” Sansa happily concurred.

“Good. Podrick and I can come help you with it.” 

Saying so, the three of them marched off, leaving him alone with Brienne.

“Ser Jaime,” she began, unlinking her hand from his, eyelids fluttering wildly. “You don’t have to feel obliged to do anything because they all feel it’s the right thing to do.” 

“I _want_ to do this, my lady—” drawing closer, he took her hand again “—because I love you.”

He leaned in to capture her lips in the sweetest, most delightful kiss he’d engaged in. This was real, this was his world and Brienne was in his arms, soon to be his wife, an inseparable part of him. 

“I love you too,” she softly confessed, when they gently parted.

“So what is it like to kiss me, wench?” he teased, recalling the strange young woman’s question. “Good, bad—if you met that girl again, what would you tell her?”

Brienne gave him a glowing smile. “Do you really need an answer to that?” 

“We can wed as soon as you wish, my lady,” Jaime proposed, eager to take the vows right now, if she wanted it too. “Just say the word—” 

“The things you do for love,” called out a familiar toneless voice, jolting them out of their moment and reminding them of his presence. “Tonight, it will be, Ser Jaime, when true love triumphs over blood and all else.”


End file.
